


Dipped In Ink

by kez



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Time, M/M, Romance, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2018-12-26 12:01:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12058587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kez/pseuds/kez
Summary: The scars Harry carried as a Kingsman, had rarely bothered him.  This latest scar however...However, getting it covered, proves somewhat more difficult than he'd been hoping...





	Dipped In Ink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mitslits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitslits/gifts).



> Written for mislits, for the Hartwin Summer Secret Santa. I haven't written to a deadline for a long time, I'd forgotten how it was both fun and terrifying! I hope you enjoy this!

The scars Harry carried as a Kingsman, had rarely bothered him. 

There were a few more memorable than others – for reasons either good, or bad – that he'd had covered. His preferred tattoo artist rather adept at making them disappear under the ink.

They were always hidden away under his suit, but Harry knew they were there and something that had started on a drunken evening with Merlin, had become somewhat of a tradition.

None of the tattoos had much in the way of special meaning, Harry picked them almost at random, from the images spread across his tattooists walls, or in the books he kept. He _liked_ the images he'd chosen, but they didn't mean much, beyond that.

His tattooists had at first tried to encourage him to pick things with meaning, but eventually, he gave up and let Harry have his own way.

Harry preferred it that way. It wouldn't do too give too much of himself away, if he were captured, or during a rare honeypot mission.

Besides, he enjoyed the randomness of it. And he enjoyed knowing that it riled Arthur up terribly. That a Kingsman would have a tattoo at all – never mind a selection of almost entirely random ones – made the old man nearly apoplectic every time Harry announced a new one.

It almost made him gleeful, every time the Doctors at Kingsman patched him up with a warning that it would leave a scar.

This latest scar however... it had been almost a year, since he'd been injured and he'd waited, with as much patience as he could muster, to get it covered, to hide the ugly, twisted skin from himself and anyone else who might ever see it.

It was a reminder he could not bare and the sooner it was hidden, the better.

The problem he currently had, was that his tattooist wouldn't touch it. In fact, Harry was finding it impossible to find a tattoo artist who would.

Even his recent mission to Spain – a place that regularly indulged drunk teenagers with stupid tattoos of dolphins and chinese characters that they thought meant 'freedom' or 'love' and probably said 'cheese' – had drawn the short straw.

The list he'd gotten from Merlin was his last hope.

*~*~*~*~*

Eggsy Unwin was running through his regular evening clean up routine.

The place he kept was small, all he'd been able to afford – with more than a bit of blagging – when he'd started out. He could find somewhere bigger if he wanted, but it suited him, he'd made it his own and his landlord was an alright bloke.

Besides, he'd earned himself a reputation as one of the best tattoo artists in this area of London and moving could screw him over.

He had his regulars, the people who came back time and again and word of mouth brought enough new customers to keep him on top of things and give him a enough spare cash to spoil his little sister now and then, save a little on the side for emergencies.

And it kept his hours regular enough that his Mum could work a little part time in the evenings, when he could look after Daisy.

"Excuse me."

"Just closing mate," Eggsy said, looking up from where he was scrubbing down his chair.

"Ah... I do apologise. My name is Harry Hart, I just wanted to see if I could make an appointment."

Eggsy looked the bloke up and down, any sort of suit would put him out of place in this neighbourhood, but it was pretty clear that the suit he was wearing was high end, nothing off the rack – least, not off any rack Eggsy could ever afford.

"No offence mate, but you want a tattoo?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I have twelve already."

"No fucking way," Eggsy said.

"Yes fucking way," he said, leaning down to pull up his trouser leg far enough to show Eggsy a intricate spiders web, with a spider dangling from one thread.

"Alright, read that one wrong then but... look seriously, you don't exactly look like you belong here..." Eggsy said. "This ain't no Saville Row or wherever you've come from."

"I don't believe there are any tattoo artists on Saville Row actually," Harry said. "You are correct though, I do not generally frequent this part of London. However, my regular tattooist... the request I have is somewhat... unusual and I have found it difficult to find an artist who will do the work."

Eggsy was going to ask why, when Harry started to remove his jacket and rolled back one sleeve, displaying his arm, from wrist to elbow.

The scarring was obviously fully healed, but still pretty unmistakable, even from a distance, as was the reason that he'd been unable to find an artist who'd do the work.

"Your soulmark," Eggsy said. "You found your soulmate yet?"

The question was personal – too personal really, amongst strangers – but Eggsy doesn't take it back.

"I have not," Harry said evenly. "I don't expect I will."

"My stepdad burned mine when I was fourteen," Eggsy said. "I'll do the ink. Any idea what you want?"

"I typically just pick at random," Harry admitted. "Whatever takes my fancy at the time."

"Not this time," Eggsy said. "I'll do the ink. But you need to think about what you want. Something that means something."

"I don't see how..."

"You can't ever... you can't ever replace what you've lost. But it's still _important_ ," Eggsy said. He knew. He'd been there. It had taken him months to decide, changing his mind a dozen times, but in the end, he'd found something that mattered. Maybe not for any reason than that he felt it did, but it was enough.

"I don't know... there isn't anything that... matters enough that..." Harry frowned. "I really am not certain what I'd choose."

"I have books. You can look. But if I'm not sure that you're sure, I'm not doing it," Eggsy said.

"I suppose that is fair enough," Harry said.

Eggsy figured he was only agreeing because he couldn't find anyone else willing to touch it – there was a reason Eggsy had done his own ink – but whatever. Eggsy wasn't going to change his mind about it.

*~*~*~*~*

Harry agreed to return to look at the books Eggsy had, to think more on what he might like.

A part of him was frustrated. He just wanted it over and done with. 

Harry supposed he could make something up, he wanted a train because of his grandfather or some such nonsense, but he didn't feel he... should.

The young man was the first person – the only person – Harry had found willing to touch the scars that had basically destroyed his soulmark. 

Not only did Harry not fancy his chances of finding someone else, given his previous luck, but the fact that Eggsy had obviously been where he was... he felt... it made it easier, to think about him doing it. 

Lying to him, would be ungentlemanly, but hardly a concern for a man who'd been spy for more than twenty-years. However more than that, Harry felt it would be distinctly unfair to the young man.

Eggsy was open and honest and he'd offered Harry something no one else would. 

The least Harry could do for him, was honour his one request that he picked something meaningful.

Surely it couldn't be that difficult? Harry had interests... he had to be able to find something that related too those, that wasn't _too_ obvious to anyone who might see it.

Perhaps something relating to the legends of King Arthur and his knights. Or something from a past mission. He'd travelled the globe after all. Seen many wonderful – and admittedly not so wonderful – sights. There had to be something...

Harry would return as agreed to look through the books Eggsy had promised to provide and in the mean time, perhaps he'd take a look at a few of his old case files, or speak with Merlin about ideas. The scot knew him as well as anyone. Almost better than any other living person, in fact.

Between them, he would have an idea surely and he could get this all over and done with as soon as possible.

*~*~*~*~*

Eggsy wasn't sure what sort of thing Harry might eventually go for, so he brought a selection of books. He had a lot more. He had a whole wall in his spare room with his books, at least half of them work related. The rest taken up with his own sketches, a single bed and his desk.

The single bed, was mostly only used by Daisy, when she stayed for the night. Or on rare occasions, one of his mates, when they'd been out for a few drinks and didn't fancy navigating the night buses.

It wasn't much but it was home. The first one he'd ever had that was just his own.

Much as he loved his Mum and Daisy and had worked hard to get them away from his step-dad, having his own space was a godsend really. No one to complain about his music, or his books, about him playing x-box in his boxers in the middle of a sunday afternoon, or eating nothing but beans on toast for three solid days because he couldn't be bothered going to the shops.

It wasn't what he'd wanted when he was younger. Young enough to still full of the idea that someday he'd find his soulmate and they'd be happy... 

A house, maybe kids, or at least pets – Eggsy would love a dog, but he didn't figure it was really fair to keep one when he spent all day at the shop. 

But it wasn't a bad life. And he loved his job. Maybe it wasn't 'important' like being a doctor, or a lawyer, or something, but he gave people something real with what he did.

Tattoo's were... a statement. A way of saying something about yourself, what you like, what you feel, what you dream about. And people trusted him with those things, when they explained why they wanted the tattoos they did.

He didn't think Harry Hart, was the trusting sort. Not normally anyway. He'd shown Eggsy his damaged soulmark without any hesitation, but everything else about him... all buttoned up and proper. And the 'randomness' of his other ink... 

Eggsy doubted that whoever his regular artist was, he knew any more about Harry, than Eggsy knew about the bloke in the grey umbro hoodie that he walked past every morning on his way to work. Two people who intersected regularly, but had no meaning for the other.

Well, Harry was going to have to trust Eggsy. The work he was going to do was too important to be shallow about it.

Eggsy may have stopped dreaming about ever finding his soulmate a long time ago, but it didn't mean he didn't respect what the soulmarks meant and how important they were.

*~*~*~*~*

Harry looked at the stack of books Eggsy had and felt vaguely panicked. He still had no idea what he wanted. Merlin had been singularly unhelpful. He'd all but laughed in Harry's face. Smug bastard.

Eggsy smiled at him though, as he flipped over the closed sign on the shop and told Harry to take a seat, which somehow, eased his nerves.

"Tea? Coffee?"

"I... that's fine, thank you, I'm already keeping you... I wouldn't want to keep you any longer than necessary.

"Got no where else to be tonight. My evening plans usually involve playing tea party with my kid sister, or vegging in front of the TV. My sister has a better offer tonight, so you'd be savin' me from more re-runs of mock the week on Dave."

"Well, tea would be lovely then," Harry said. "If it's saving you from re-runs."

Eggsy grinned, bright and surprisingly easy, given what Harry had discovered about his past. 

Harry hadn't looked himself of course, he was a gentleman and Eggsy was not a mark. But nor had he exactly discouraged Merlin for digging into the boys past and presenting him a file that was frankly horrid reading.

The easy grin and seemingly easy manner, was at odds, with all that. But it didn't seem to be an act. Or if it was, it was an incredibly good one.

"'fraid it's not nothing fancy."

"Despite appearances, I am not a total snob," Harry said.

"We'll see," Eggsy said, setting a mug down in front of him, followed by a clear plastic tupperware tub of sugar and a pint of milk. "Did ya think about what you were going to want?"

Harry ducked his head, as he accepted the tea and added milk. "I... I'm afraid I'm... well in truth, I haven't the foggiest. I've considered and disregarded so many things... I sought the council of a friend, but he was rather useless."

Eggsy chuckled. "Good. If you'd come in saying you knew exactly what you wanted, I'd probably not have believed you."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Show's you're taking it seriously. Pick a book. Start lookin'," Eggsy said. "If you see something that appeals, even if it ain't something you'd want, we can look at why and it might lead us to something else."

Harry took the one off the top, for lack of ability to make any other decision and laid it open the the table.

*~*~*~*~*

Eggsy let Harry flip through a the first few pages, while he tidied a bit, before sitting down across him.

"What do you do then?" Eggsy said.

Harry looked slightly startled. "I'm a tailor."

"Explains the gear, I guess," Eggsy said. 

"I... yes... well..."

"It's a good advertisement," Eggsy said. "I'd be convinced, if I had that sort of money."

"A gentleman should always invest in a good suit," Harry said.

"Well, I ain't never been accused of being a gentleman," Eggsy said, with a little smirk.

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "It's never too late to learn."

Eggsy laughed. "Maybe some of it'll rub off, eh? So what about when you ain't being a tailor then? What does a gentleman do in his spare time?"

"Interrogating me, Eggsy?"

"Just trying to figure you out a bit more, maybe help narrow down things... I ain't trying to steal your identity or nothing," Eggsy said. "Don't think I'd pass for a tailor anyway."

"Certainly not in that horrible jacket," Harry said.

Eggsy grasped his chest. "I'm wounded, Harry, truly wounded. But don't think I didn't notice you didn't answer my question. Something embarrassing?"

"Hardly," Harry snorted softly. "Simply... I don't have much in the way of interest outside of work."

"Really? No hobbies? No friends?"

"I occasionally spend time with a few of my work colleagues, for a few drinks or such. I do enjoy a good film. A quiet evening with a good drink and a book tend to be the highlights of my week. Not terribly exciting, I realise."

Eggsy shrugged. "Hey, I spend more nights at home than not. Lookin' after my little sis while Mum's working, or sketching out new designs. Sure I go out the odd time with my mates, but it ain't often."

"You sketch your own designs?"

"A bit, here and there, ain't never inked them on no one, but a few close mates or myself," Eggsy said. "But anyway, we're talkin' about you, yeah."

"Perhaps something original is just what I need?" Harry suggested.

"Lets... try the conventional stuff first," Eggsy said. 

"If you think..."

"Well if we can at least find some idea _where_ to look, maybe then we can look outside the box," Eggsy said. "But for now, the box will be helpful."

*~*~*~*~*

"Okay we're getting out of here," Eggsy said.

Harry blinked. "Pardon?"

"We're running in circles, bruv, we need a change of scenery, or I do if you don't," Eggsy said. "Come on, there's a cafe down the street, does amazin' muffins."

"I... well I suppose... if you'd rather just leave things for another evening, or..."

"Harry... I ain't saying we're giving up yeah. Just that we need a change of scenery. Come on, coffee, muffin, a break of pace, maybe we'll give ourselves some other idea."

Harry nodded. "Very well then. But these muffin's had better be as amazing as you say." 

"Trust me, Harry, they'll make you question your religion," Eggsy said, locking up the shop. "The lemon ones are my favourites."

"I confess, I'd have thought you'd go for the chocolate," Harry admitted. The few meetings they'd had, Eggsy had offered Harry tea or coffee each time and a selection of biscuits, that seemed to lean heavily towards chocolate.

"I get in what most people wanna eat," Eggsy shrugged. "And I do like 'em, but I admit, I love sharper flavours and these are the best I've ever had."

"Well," Harry said falling into step beside the younger man. "I shall have to try one of these lemon muffin's then and I shall hold you too your word."

*~*~*~*~*

Eggsy watched Harry pour over yet another set of books he'd brought from home.

They'd chatted while they had tea and then Eggsy had left Harry to his own devices, while he'd started taking inventory. His attempt was somewhat hampered, by his most recent... hobby.

Harry watching.

In the weeks they'd been meeting, Eggsy had found himself doing it more and more. Especially in the silence between their conversations. Conversations that went hours into the night and covered a hundred different topics.

Harry might be a posh git, but he was smart, funny and knew a lot about pretty much everything. And he talked to Eggsy like he was every bit as smart.

Eggsy wouldn't say he had a _crush_ , per say. But... well he definitely had a crush.

It wasn't a big thing. Eggsy had a definite preference for blokes over girls most of the time and Harry was seriously fit too. Oozing sex appeal without even trying. 

Under other circumstances, Eggsy was pretty sure he'd have made a move. But what he was doing for Harry was too important to mess up with his own shit, no matter how much he was tempted. Besides, they'd become... friends, maybe. At least Eggsy liked to think so

They'd spent hours pouring over books, over tea and more cakes than was probably wise. They'd talked and joked and teased and shared things. Eggsy had shared things with Harry he hadn't even shared with Ryan and Jamal. And he was pretty sure, Harry had told him things he wouldn't just share with anyone either.

For one thing, Eggsy was pretty damn sure Harry was no tailor and he was also pretty damn sure he wasn't supposed to know that, but he'd never snitched on no one and wouldn't be snitching on Harry, not that he was likely to ever be asked if the bloke in the nice suit was some sort of secret agent or whatever it was, he did.

Eggsy startled from his musing suddenly when Harry slammed closed the book he was looking through.

The older man sighed. "Apologies. I just... this is... frustrating."

"Sorry, I guess you aren't having much luck," Eggsy said.

"That is an understatement," Harry said. "Nevertheless, I shouldn't take it out on your books."

"They've survived worse," Eggsy shrugged. "Look, why don't we leave it tonight yeah. Go get a cuppa and a muffin and forget about it. And then on Friday, you can come round mine... I've got a lot more books and... maybe you can look at some of my sketches..."

It was something Eggsy had been reluctant to suggest, even after they'd discussed it before, because they were so... he'd just never been comfortable putting them out there, on peoples skin. It was so permanent. He was proud of them, but for himself, other people were... different.

"I... don't want to... you seemed... reluctant, when we discussed it before."

"Well, maybe it's time to look outside the box..."

Harry snorted softly. "Certainly looking inside it hasn't proved terribly fruitful."

"Well if I'd known we was looking for fruit..."

*~*~*~*~*

Harry resolutely ignored Merlin's comment about his 'hot date' as he left the tailor shop that evening. And privately planned to kill the other man for telling James and Alistair about his meetings.

It was exactly none of their business, besides which it wasn't at all like Merlin had made it sound.

Harry's meetings with Eggsy, had hit double numbers, as of the last time they'd met and while Harry couldn't deny that he enjoyed the time spent with the young man – who had surprised Harry with how brilliant he truly was – Merlin needn't make it sound so... so base.

Yes, Eggsy was attractive. And really had a brilliant mind, when he wasn't trying to hide it. A wicked sense of humour...

Harry wasn't blind to his appeal, but that wasn't what it was about.

And no matter how Merlin tried to imply that Harry was somehow delaying things, he really wasn't.

The fact was, no matter how many books they'd looked through, or the hours spent taking about this and that, he was no closer to an answer, than he had been.

He could blame it on the parts of his past he had to... fudge.... if not outright lie about. But in truth he just... nothing felt right.

There had been many times when Harry had considered simply giving up. Picking something at random like always and simply telling Eggsy that it meant more than it did.

But Eggsy had continued to be insistent on how important it was and nothing but patient in their discussions. Drawing out lines of conversation that Harry would never have considered, opening up about his own life.

And it was so easy.

Harry had enjoyed the conversations, the wry if not occasionally sharp humour, Eggsy had. 

The way he picked trails up that Harry would never have thought too. He had such a unique perspective and was unafraid of telling it like he saw it. Or admit when he's wrong. He'd changed Harry's mind on several matters, but allowed himself to be swayed by Harry just as equally.

They'd migrated from Eggsy's shop, to a cafe a short walk away, during the third meeting andoccasionally after, until Eggsy had invited him to his own flat, after the eighth and... well maybe Harry wasn't intentionally hampering the search but, perhaps he didn't mind so much that it was taking so long.

Damn Merlin and his perceptiveness.

*~*~*~*~*

"What is this?" Harry asked.

Eggsy set the litre bottle of whiskey – he'd spent a little more than normal, but it was probably still well below Harry's usual standards – and two glasses on the table between them.

"Plan c," he said.

"Plan c is cheap whiskey?"

Eggsy shrugged. "Well, it was this or skydiving."

"Equally as likely to kill me," Harry said. "Well, you are the expert."

"I don't think I've ever gotten a client drunk before, usually try to avoid it. But you're a special case," Eggsy said.

Harry chuckled. "I've heard that before."

"I just bet," Eggsy agreed, as he opened the bottle and poured a more than generous shot into each glass, pushing one towards Harry. 

He watched the older man lift the glass and take a sniff before he sipped.

Eggsy laughed at the face he immediately pulled.

"You are trying to kill me aren't you?"

"Neck the first couple and you won't care," Eggsy advised, doing just that with his own. It burned like fuck on the way down, Harry wasn't wrong that it was pretty shit whiskey really, but he immediately poured another and necked it.

"In for a penny, I suppose," Harry said, before downing what was left of his own and holding out his glass to accept another shot.

*~*~*~*~*

As Eggsy predicted, Harry stopped caring about the taste after the first few shots of whiskey. It was still utterly detestable, but it quickly did, what he expected it was supposed too and left him loose limbed and feeling more than a little blurry around the edges.

Harry would absolutely blame that, for what happened an hour later.

Eggsy was showing him a few of the latest sketches he'd been doing and Harry was bent over his shoulder, displaying a suitable level of appreciation for Eggsy's true talent. And then the younger man looked up, cheeks flush – from the alcohol, Harry might later consider – and grinning...

Harry didn't think before he closed the gap and kissed his way past that grin, his tongue slipping forward and into Eggsy's mouth, to taste the whiskey they'd been drinking.

Eggsy was still for a moment and then, his hands were tugging at Harry's shirt collar – his jacket had been removed several drinks ago – and brushing his own tongue against Harry's.

Harry stopped thinking about much, other than the feeling of Eggsy under his mouth, the heady rush of desire that swept over him. It was like nothing he'd ever felt and for a moment Harry was entirely breathless, falling to his knees, only separating from Eggsy when his lungs were almost burning with the need for air.

Eggsy's pupils were blown wide, leaving only a small ring of colour, his cheeks impossibly even more flushed, his mouth open and slick.

"Eggsy..." Harry murmured lowly, his head suddenly clear, regardless of the alcohol he'd imbibed. "I realise this may be a poor time to ask, but, what is the tattoo you have on your wrist?"

Eggsy looked as startled by the question as Harry was to ask, but after weeks of leaving that particular question alone, because Harry hadn't wanted to pry, when Eggsy had never offered the information and seemed to purposefully keep it covered... he _needed_ to know.

The younger man pulled back carefully, turning over the end of the long sleeves he habitually wore, to reveal his wrist.

"It's a luzon peacock..." Eggsy said softly. "It's..."

"Scientific name, Papilio chikae. Discovered in the Philippines in 1965..." Harry said. "Please, come with me..."

"What... where?" 

*~*~*~*~*

Eggsy was in that weird space between drunk and sober, where he mostly felt a bit queasy, but he let himself be pressed into the back of a taxi and driven to an area of London he'd never been too before.

"You live here?" he asked.

It was a nice place, way nicer than any place Eggsy had ever lived, even when he was younger, before his Dad died, they hadn't had anything like this.

"Yes," Harry murmured.

There are butterflies splashed all across the walls, but Harry leads Eggsy straight through the living room and up the stairs, into a room with copies of the sun of all things, across the walls. But there, near the door, is the single encased butterfly in the room.

"My grandfather gave it too me, when I left for university. It was discovered the year I was born."

Eggsy looked at the butterfly. 

He'd spent hours looking for ideas for his tattoo and it had been a fluke, when he'd seen the picture of the butterfly in a magazine and just _known _. He'd taken that picture and spent yet more hours, looking for more, to sketch his tattoo, mix the ink just right for the colour...__

__"It don't mean..." Eggsy faltered._ _

__He was torn between the urge to throw himself at Harry and hope that it _could_ mean that. That it could mean, that Dean hadn't ruined his chances of ever finding the other part of himself. And the horrible fear that it _couldn't_. That he'd be opening himself up to more heartache, when it was proved wrong._ _

__"No," Harry agreed._ _

__Eggsy sighed softly, as Harry stroked his cheek, brushing his thumb against the corner of his lips. He let a soft kiss brush against the thumb and another, before turning his face into Harry's hand properly, to press kisses against the palm._ _

__Harry drew him close and Eggsy let him, leaning easily into the kiss, stoking a fire in his belly as quickly as the first kiss, in his flat had. Like nothing ever had before._ _

__"What if you're wrong?" he asked._ _

__"I hadn't even considered the possibility when I kissed you..." Harry murmured._ _

__"Then kiss me again..." Eggsy said. "Don't matter if we is or ain't, if... if we want each other..."_ _

__Harry pressed his lips once more to Eggsy's and Eggsy took that as an answer, opening easily under him, as his arms wrapped around the older man._ _

__*~*~*~*~*_ _

__Harry moaned softly into Eggsy's mouth, as he pressed the younger man against the door frame, feeling the same need that had burned through him, the first time he'd kissed him._ _

__Harry could understand why Eggsy was afraid to _know_ , but Harry wasn't. _ _

__He just... he was certain. The moment he'd kissed him that first time. The alcohol that had emboldened him to act, clearing from his mind, leaving him certain, absolutely certain, that somehow, this wonderful young man, was his his._ _

__If Eggsy wasn't ready to know yet, then Harry could wait for that. He had Eggsy in his arms and that would be enough for now._ _

__The two of them wove together from his study to the bedroom, clothes left in a haphazard mess that Harry would definitely regret in the morning but didn't rightly give a damn about when he had Eggsy under him, spread out, pale and perfect and taking eagerly Harry's touches and returning his own._ _

__It was nothing but friction between them, their cocks trapped between them, as they ground together, touching and tasting, breathless kisses and gripping at skin slick with sweat, until Eggsy cried out and Harry followed him, a few desperate thrusts later, with his moans muffled against Eggsy's throat._ _

__He wanted to tell Eggsy then and there, that he was already in love with him, had been slowly falling since almost the beginning... but he kept his words to himself, as he kissed and kissed and kissed Eggsy, until they were barely more than sharing breath, with their mouths pressed close._ _

__*~*~*~*~*_ _

__Eggsy woke up cozy and comfortable and smelling bacon._ _

__He pulled himself from Harry's bed and shoved on his jeans before he found the bathroom to take care of his full bladder and the cotton wool feel of his mouth._ _

__The expected hangover was not to be found, but as he looked at himself in the mirror and at the butterfly that had adorned his arm for years... he felt more than a little nauseous._ _

__He'd wanted Harry and that first kiss... god it had only made that desire burn brighter, harder, he couldn't have turned him away, if he'd tried._ _

__But what if that's all it was? What if it was just the fact Eggsy had already wanted him? Already been attracted to him? Already thought... maybe it could even be more. What if they bled together and nothing... nothing happened._ _

__Harry had said it didn't matter, but it had to, didn't it? But not knowing..._ _

__Eggsy looked at himself again in the mirror and made a decision, jogging down the stairs, barefoot and in shirtless as he was, to find Harry putting what looked like the finishing touches to a full english._ _

__"Thank you from sparing my sheets from breakfast in bed," Harry said, teasingly._ _

__"You got a knife?" Eggsy asked before he could change his mind._ _

__Harry looked startled. "Eggsy? I thought..."_ _

__"Changed my mind," Eggsy said, ignoring the voice screaming at him to change it back before he screwed up the chance of actually keeping Harry. "So, got one?"_ _

__Harry frowned slightly, but turned to retrieve a small one, from the knife block on the counter top behind him._ _

__"Are you certain about this?"_ _

__Eggsy reached out and took the knife, the light glinting off the blade as he moved it towards his wrist, just below the edge of the butterfly. It wasn't _exactly_ the traditional place, but he wasn't going to damage his ink, it had meant to much for him, to do it._ _

__He wiped the small hint of red from the edge of the blade on his jeans and passed it back to Harry, watching wordlessly as the other man made his own incision._ _

__"We really needn't..."_ _

__Eggsy grabbed Harry's hand, making him drop the knife, as he pressed their bleeding wrists together._ _

__There were movies, books, songs, poems... media was overloaded with stories about soulmates coming together, mixing their blood – blood spilled and shared – dating back through all of human history and Eggsy was familiar with his fair share of it... but none of it, not one bit, had prepared him for the sweeping sensation of _right_ that hit, as the bond spread and snapped into place between them._ _

__His legs felt like jelly and when Harry grabbed him to keep him upright, he all but collapsed on the other man, sending them both to their knees, still clinging together._ _

__Eggsy couldn't find words, so he settled for action, kissing Harry with everything he was feeling rushing out of him and almost crying with relief when Harry kissed him back just as desperately._ _

__Harry was _his_. Somehow, against all odds... somehow they'd still found each other._ _

__*~*~*~*~*_ _

__Harry pressed tender kisses against Eggsy's wrist, as they lay wrapped together. Eggsy had been expecting a hangover and hadn't planned to go into work today anyway, so Harry had let Merlin know that he wouldn't be in and after the bastard had stopped laughing about being right, he'd told Harry he'd take care of keeping Arthur at bay for the day._ _

__So they'd eaten and showered and then Eggsy had talked Harry right back into bed._ _

__"You know, I never did choose a design for my wrist," he said, conversationally._ _

__"As long as you don't think some kind of egg related pun is now acceptable," Eggsy said._ _

__Harry chuckled. "Tempting," he said. If only to see the adorable frown on his lovers face. He kissed it away gently. "No eggs," he promised. "What was the first tattoo you got?"_ _

__Eggsy looked at him curiously. "The paw prints on my shoulder," he said, turning slightly to give him a better look._ _

__"Why?" Harry asked. He'd seen them earlier, when they'd showered together. He'd taken the chance to explore every bit of Eggsy he could. "A childhood pet?"_ _

__"They're wolf prints actually," Eggsy said. "I like them. They're pretty interesting really and I've always had a bit of an interest in them since I was a kid and saw some at this zoo me dad took us too. They're pack animals. Family is an important part of their social structure and how they live... sure you get lone wolves, but mostly, they do better in a pack. With Dean... didn't always much feel like a family at home... but it was something I wanted. A real family. Wasn't about blood, just about belonging."_ _

__Harry kissed Eggsy soundly. "You continue to astound me..." he said. "Do you think you could copy that to my wrist?"_ _

__"Would have to make it smaller, but I could do it," Eggsy said. "You want that?"_ _

__"I do, it represents something that is important to you and so it is important to me," Harry confirmed._ _

__Eggsy swallowed thickly. "Fuck... if you're this sappy all the time, I'm gonna need shares in kleenex..."_ _

__Harry shrugged. "I make no apology, darling. We belong to each other now and you'll have your family. There is your Mum and sister and while I don't have much in the way of blood family, there are several close friends that I would call such, if it wouldn't make them unbearably smug..."_ _

__"I'm totally going to tell them, you know that right?" Eggsy asked. "That you are a sappy bugger who loves them really..."_ _

__Harry narrowed his gaze. "On the other hand, perhaps a nice fried egg..."_ _


End file.
